Motherhood is the purest love I’ve ever experienced.
I love my husband to death, and I love who he is, but part of that love is fueled or depleted by his love and actions towards me. And I don’t mean that in a negative way, only in a realistic way. We fuel each other’s love for us, although we’re committed to loving each other no matter what. And part of growing up in Christ is loving each other even in the moments of unlovabilityness. Or something.
And I think marriage experts would agree, and I do.
(Just kidding, I’m sooo not a marriage expert. Although I do have a good memory and can spew marriage facts like I am, only to “forget” them when it may apply to me.)
The love I have for Micah is neither fueled or depleted by anything he does or doesn’t do. It’s just there. In the fullest measure that I think is sometimes humanly possible.
He breaks my heart into a million pieces. In a good way. I absolutely want the best for him at all times, regardless of the sacrifice it requires of me. In fact, it makes the sacrifice an act of love, not an act of obligation.
I do, on a teeny, tiny scale, understand a little bit more of the Father’s love for me.